


Friction

by aredburn



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 16:23:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9557069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aredburn/pseuds/aredburn
Summary: Somewhere along the way the lightening bolt hit for a second time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Helloooo my lovelies!!! I know I haven't updated in a while and that's entirely my fault, I have just been too focused on the #RenewTimeless campaign and feeling a little blah about this whole thing that I haven't really written much of the next chapter of "When you're in the darkness only the blind can see". I was going to try and finish it tonight but I saw a spoiler pic today that just ARRRRGMYGOD made me so obsessed and stupidly happy lol. I just HAD to write this one shot.
> 
> It's based on this picture of today's filming for the finale: https://twitter.com/surethingmaam/status/827140096717619200
> 
> I know it's probably a stunt BUT I DON'T CARE, IT JUST MADE ME SO HAPPY. I'm so stupid in love with these two idiots GAH. 
> 
> I wrote this super quick right now because it was supposed to be a flash fic for @maereed. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this little piece and I'll try to update the other fanfic soon.

They're coming down the stairs when Wyatt spots Flynn. Dark suit and a fedora hat aren't able to hide the usual strut of this guy, as if he has the world at his disposal and powerful enough to bring it down to its knees.

 “It’s Flynn,” Lucy whispers to him, her breath a warm breeze against his neck and he shivers. He pretends it’s the cold weather.

He's far enough across the stairs that he may just miss them, but Wyatt's senses come to alert, his military instinct taking over automatically and the ‘ _may_ ’ is enough to send him into protection mode. He grabs Lucy’s arm and pulls her to him, descending the stairs quickly, trying to look for a hidden space, but they’re completely in the open in broad day light. Her surprised “hey” doesn’t even register.

So he does the most logical thing. Or he tells himself it’s the most logical thing, because who would pay attention to two lovers? Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable, they force their stares elsewhere, pretend they don’t see two people who should be in love exchanging caresses.

He pushes Lucy against the column at the bottom of the stairs, rests his arms above her head and stares down at her, his hat covering his head and his body covering her small one. She’s staring up at him with those big brown eyes, in their perfect almond shape and perfect eyelashes, and he swear he can see desire in them.

Wyatt steps closer, does his best to look like a man who needs this woman more than anything else and isn’t surprised at all when he finds it so easy to pretend. He hopes that to the outside they look like a man in gray suit and a woman in a blue overcoat trying to smother their feelings. Gray and blue, Wyatt ponders, much like them. Bright Lucy who is like light that arrived into his grim life with the same speed of a comet, burning everything around her, including his self-pity.

He puts one hand on her hip, angles her towards him, steps so close that their breathing is almost one. Her hand rests on his shoulder, and she leans in close, her lips parting as the tip of her tongue flicks out to moister them. Wyatt swallows, watches her motion and almost loses his control. He wants to kiss her so bad he’s ready to throw caution to hell and just take her from here.

“Wyatt,” her voice holds a hint of warning, as if she’s reading his thoughts and begging him to focus, begging him to save this for a more appropriate moment. “He stopped. He’s talking to three other men.”

Shit. Would he notice if they moved?

Instead of taking his chances, Wyatt leans even closer, hopes he’s hiding Lucy completely from view and that Flynn won’t recognize him from behind and lowers his head towards her. “Don’t look.”

She does as he tells her, her eyes fixing on him instead, stepping a little to her left so his body is completely in front of her and slides her hand down, sneaks it against his waist, and he feels her fingers flexing against his body. “It’s cold,” she says in a way of explaining.

Her breath is coming out in white puffs that quickly disappear into the air so when he takes the final possible step closer to her he justifies it as simply trying to protect her from the wind, even though the sun is on them like a spotlight.

They’re almost embracing; the warmth from each other creating a little cocoon around them and the intimacy of the moment makes Wyatt’s body respond in the most unexpected ways. His breathing becomes a little harder and the sudden tightening of his pants makes him curse silently, wishing torture on whoever allowed this to happen. He makes it even more difficult by reaching a hand up and brushing away a stray lock of her dark hair, watching with a little fascination Lucy’s sharp intake of breath.

His skin burns where it touches her.

The harder he tries to repel it, the stronger his body obeys to her calls.

Something had awakened when he kissed her in 1934, something that came from deep within and was already rooted there so firmly that not even his guilt and love and loyalty to Jessica’s memory had been able to uproot.

He can see him with her; he can see them, him happy. And happiness had been something so unattainable for so long he forgot what it felt like. It makes him hurt to think all this pain he had been feeling for so many years could disappear, could be replaced by the light Lucy brought into his life, as if his DNA had been rewritten the moment she walked into Mason Industries and told him to stop calling her ma’am. As if the planets had realigned so they could meet and be forced down under the heavy weight of their power.

His hand had cupped her chin, and he notices how she always fits so perfectly against it, as if she was personally designed for him. He wants to gently pull her head up, angle her mouth so his lips will press against hers better, wants to move his hips against hers until they’re a perfect fit, wants to slide his hands under her blouse and feel her warm skin directly against his.

He wants to find out if her body responds to him as much as his does to hers.

“They’re gone,” she says, her voice labored, as if she’s fighting too hard to say them, as if she regrets saying them.

Wyatt takes a deep breath; regretfully steps back to clear his head and is relieved when his he can think a little better. If he had kissed her right now it wouldn’t have been gentle and quick like the one they shared in Bonnie and Clyde’s cabin. It’d have been hard, sloppy, desperate, with hands in places they shouldn’t be in public.

He doesn’t wait for his heart to slow down or for Lucy to stop looking like someone who regretted the space between them.  “Let’s get out of here.”

And they leave, quick steps away from the Flynn and closer to each other.


End file.
